All I Need
by SilverStarsAndMoons
Summary: Based on Mat Kearney's All I Need, which played during Time Has Come Today. Takes place after Addison's divorce from Derek. Takes place on a ferryboat. IzzieAddie, lesbian themes, Please R & R! Thanks!


**All I Need**

_Here it comes; it's all blowing in tonight_

_I woke up this morning to a blood-red sky_

_Burning on the bridge and turning off the lights_

_We're on the run; I can see it in your eyes_

Dark black sky, with a streak of red just near the horizon that flashes across the water like a firestorm from hell, but Addison can't pay attention to the eerie colours when her eyes are fogged and she's clinging to the rail of the ferry as tightly as she can.

So it's over. So it's gone. So that's the way it is, and now Addie's divorced, and now she's not part of a golden couple. She's a broken-down ex wife who just happens to have a talent for birthing babies. And she doesn't have a chance of ever seeing her reflection in the eyes of a child of her own.

Addison bends her head, her red hair spilling to the sides of her cheeks, a single tear dropping to the pale-blue mud-streaked deck, her ring catching that hellhound sky and glittering with a carmine spark before a raindrop blots it out. Is there ever a descriptive word for a heart that's ripped in half? Is there ever a simile for that stomach-downing feeling of knowing that you've irreparably torn your life?

Addison wants to scream at the sky, she wants to rail at God, but who cares? Everyone knows that this was her own making. She made the choice to dig her fingernails into Mark's back, she made the choice to scream his name as he made her come repeatedly, she made the choice to buck her body against his and feel his sweat running down her stomach. She made the choice. The choice has been made.

_Guess we both know we're in over our heads_

_We've got nowhere to go and no home that's left_

_The water is rising on a river turning red_

_It all might be okay or we might be dead_

_Everything we've got is slipping away . . . _

As a low rumble of thunder sounds overhead, Isobel Stevens has her hands twisted in the straps of her purse, and she's staring at the scarlet streak in the sky as if she expects the Horsemen to gallop straight over her. The water-scented wind is blowing directly into her eyes, but she doesn't dare blink, because if she does, then she forgets what Denny looks like; she forgets what it's like to hold his cold hands, she forgets how her heart melted when he smiled that resigned smile at her and put his life into her hands.

Izzie wonders exactly where to go from here. She knows that lying on the bathroom floor, as many hours as that took, didn't give her half as much time as she needed to think. And in the end, what did it gain her? She has a broken heart. Hearts can't be broken unless they really are – and Izzie's really is.

And then she sees something red that isn't related to the impending storm, and her eyes, as dark and bright as stars, fall to the lower deck of the ferry where Addison Montgomery, once Addison Shepherd, is crying.

_One more day and it's all sleeping with the sand_

_You touch my lips and grab the back of my hand_

_The back of my hand_

Addison has mascara on her cheeks – it's just something she knows without even looking at herself in any mirrors. You get used to that sticky, itchy feeling of melted makeup when you've done as much crying as Addie has. And she's cried a lot in the past month, so much that sometimes she wondered where the tears came from, how she sustained enough feeling to keep making more. And of course, now she's crying again, and this time, it's not helping to anesthetize that white-hot agony in her chest.

Izzie has come down a deck, she's right behind Addison, but she's got her mind on other things. Like the storm cloud that's centred right over their heads. Like the red streak in the sky that's glowing like some crazy celestial fire, like that fire of Pentecost she learned about in catechism class when she was 6 and then tried to touch the candle flame, and ended up with a second degree blister that the nun told her was God's penance on her disobedient soul. To this day, Izzie still doesn't know how someone could tell a little girl that she deserved to do penance for curiosity.

Addison turns and sees blonde hair flying like a flag in the stripping wind. It's her young intern, Izzie Stevens, and she's messed up in her own private hell that Addison heard whispers of in the attending's sitting room outside Richard's office. The main thing is, none of it matters. The main thing is, Addie sees the same tears in Izzie's eyes that she knows are mirrored in her own. And Addie holds out her hand, beckons the younger girl to the side of the deck where the first coin-sized drops of rain are beginning to spot the black bottomless water.

They don't talk; what would be the point? The poets said it all and the novelists have said more, and everyone pretends to understand pain but you can't unless you've been there. So silently they stand, thinking about the men in their lives, how the light faded from one gaze and the love faded from another, and that's when Addison turns to cup Izzie's chin in her capable surgeon's hands.

_Walls are shaking, I hear them sound the alarm_

_Glass is breaking, so don't let go of my arm_

_Grab your bags and a picture of where we met_

_All that we leave behind is all that's left_

_Everything that we've got is blowing away_

_We've got to rock and rock till our dying day_

_I'm holding onto you holding onto me . . . _

It happens like a flash – as soon as the first streak of lightning crosses the sky Addie's leaned towards Izzie and their mouths meet over the ferry rail. Izzie is surprised, but not really, because surprise would indicate a feeling and she's numb at the moment. She opens her mouth and lets Addison take control, lets Addison's tongue slip into her mouth, gently dart towards the sensitive gums and pass over her teeth, and suddenly she's got Addison's hair in her hands and the rain is streaming over them both, and red and blonde become nondescript shades in the darkened air, but they don't care, because someone gets it and one kiss can chase away a thousand nightmares.

Addison lets her purse drop to the deck, she lets her hands drop to Izzie's back, she traces the younger girl's spine through her shirt and trails her hands over the soft contours of Izzie's hips, feeling the bones through her skin, feeling the difference between bony and simply firm. And suddenly her hands slip into Izzie's panties, and she touches soft hair and the uneven edges of an old surgical scar.

Isobel Stevens has never done it with a girl. And she's not planning to do it on a ferry deck, where anyone could walk in, even though everyone's waiting in their cars and it's eight pm on an early autumn night, and no one's standing out in the rain hoping that the fierce needles beating on her scalp will make her feel something other than Failure and Numb, and other names that she's given herself in place of Dr. Izzie Stevens Duquette. No, she's not planning to do it with a girl. Not at all . . .

Izzie places Addison's hands further down her panties, feeling the cold water from the sky running down her belly, feeling Addison's fingers squirming as the rain hits them. Addison has her eyes tightly shut, and the tears on her cheeks are indistinguishable from the rain.

_And if all we've got is what no one can break_

_I know I love you if that's all we can take_

_The tears are coming down, they're mixing with the rain_

_I know I love you, if that's all we can take_

Addison is slipping in a windy wet sky, but she's not going to lose hold of the one anchor that's got her still standing on the ferry deck. She finds Izzie somewhere in the darkness behind her eyes, and while she opens her mouth and her fingers are opening Izzie, and everything becomes just rhythm after that, she is not thinking of pain or heartbreak or sadness, not when the lightning stars are exploding in the sky behind her eyes.

Can you feel the cold railing on your back? wonders Izzie as she feels Addison grinding her against sharp flakes of rust and nubbles of paint on the three sturdy rails that ensure that if Izzie wanted to throw herself over the side, it would take some work first. She's sure at this moment in time, no one knows she's here, but Addison's got her and what does it matter if she gets a little wetter when it's already raining? Izzie pushes hard against Addison's fingers, she makes it worth her while and she feels Addison's nails catching slightly on the inside but the sensitivity of it all bursts her grief wide open. She pours tears and juices and blood and what have you everywhere and her mouth detaches from Addison just long enough to whisper the attending's upper-class name.

Addison herself has wet her panties, well, where they weren't wet before, because the slight catch in Izzie's voice, that utter primal sound she emitted just before she came, well – that was enough for Addison Montgomery, once Addison Shepherd, to open her eyes and look straight into Izzie's. And the two women detach and come together, arms are entwined and breasts touch breasts, and the two hold each other for dear life as the storm rages on overhead, as tears mix with rain and lightning crashes, and thunder drumrolls split the thick air with the ferocity of gods.

No words. No explanations. For once it just is. It's just time.

_Pool is running for miles on the concrete ground_

_It's eight feet deep and the rain's still coming down_

_TV's playing it all out of town_

_I'm grabbing at the fray for something that won't drown_

_I'm holding onto you holding onto me_

_Baby, it's all gone black but you're all I see_

When the ferry docks on the other side of the bay, Addison and Izzie are sitting in Addison's car, in the half-darkness, eyes shining in the dull light from the green starboard beams. It's pretty clear that something has come to pass and nothing's the same as it was before the storm split the sky. Addison knows herself that sometimes an unintentional emotional lobotomy can do wonders for the spirit.

Still broken, yes. Still hurting, yes. Still alone? Not tonight, at least.

Her hand snakes into Izzie's and Addison's eyes unfocus to remember how the water rippled and the diamond sparkled, a thousand facets of unrequited love, to sink to the bottom of that ocean of salty tears. Izzie rubs the absent place on Addie's hand and the ferry gate opens.

_I'm holding onto you holding onto me_

_Maybe it's all we've got, but you're all I need._

_You're all I need._


End file.
